Where It All Began
by corndogstories
Summary: The Reliable Excavation Demolition Team, hired by Redmond Mann, are officially employed and ready for action. But first, the mercenaries have to overcome the obstacle that comes with being on a team - each other. Sorry all you shippers out there; no pairings in this.
1. Chapter 1 - la Réunion de Mercenaires

Spy knew he was going to be the first man there. That was just how he liked it.  
The letter of his acceptance into the Reliable Excavation Demolition team had specifically stated to be there at 5:30 pm, but Spy had to survey this little place that only went by the name "Dustbowl" before anyone was able to get in his way.  
He arrived at 5:00 sharp, and pulling on his balaclava in the dark of his car's tinted windows, he stepped out into the evening light and got a good look at the small facility with the sign "**MERCENARIES WAIT HERE**" on the door.  
It couldn't of been more than the size of an average doctor's waiting room on the inside; it was already looking like such a hovel to him, but he dismissed the thought. He had been in worse, after all.  
Itching at his neck, Spy put one hand in his pocket and began walking, past the shack and to a nearby cliff, kicking up little dust and casting a small look up to the mellow peach sky.  
Below the cliff sat the battlefield. Spy caught the little details first. The pile of tires sitting up against a rusty metal shack that looked like a tripping hazard. How poorly the mining cart tracks were placed - yet another reason for a man to stumble and cost his own life. That little shadowed space between two wooden shelters. That wouldn't be a bad place to wait for an enemy, and then pop out like a Jack-in-the-Box. The thought made him smirk.  
After catching the minor things, he began to see the field as a whole. Weeds, decomposing wood, and dust. Lots and lots of dust. Looking beyond, he realized the entire field was surrounded by steep cliffs and boulders. It was practically in a little bowl. The name "Dustbowl" made a significant amount of sense to Spy now.  
The masked man made his way back over to the facility, and he leaned in the shadows of the waiting room. He took his lighter and a cigarette from his coat pocket, and lit it. His eyes fell to his shadow slightly protruding from the building's, and out of habit he stepped back so it looked as if he wasn't even there.  
_The rest should be arriving shortly_, he thought to himself, smoke rising to the sky. _Enjoy the silence while it lasts._


	2. Chapter 2 - Hello, My Name Is

At 5:32, the door to the waiting room opened. Dell really hoped he followed the directions correctly, and that this was the place he needed to be. He hated being lost, and if he was in the wrong waiting room he'd be late. He hated being late, too.

The fact that he was the only one there made Dell even more nervous about it, but he went ahead and took a spot in one of the nine chairs. The room was small, with pale brick-red paint on the walls and yellow tiles on the floor. The chairs were brown and creaked with every small movement, and the fluorescent lights overhead flickered every once and awhile.

Dell flexed his fingers and tried to keep from sweating. In the corner of the ceiling, he could see a little black lens closing in. It bugged the hell out of him.

The door opened again, and a taller man with glasses entered. He had sort of a long face, and short dark hair. Dell soon found the man was Australian; he asked in the accent, "Reliable Excavation Demolition?"

The Texan replied, "You bet."

They shook hands, and the tall man introduced himself. "Mr. Mundy. I'm the Sniper 'round here." Dell replied, "Mr. Conagher, sir. If you're the Sniper, then I'm the Engineer." Sniper laughed a little, more out of politeness then true humoring.

The two men didn't talk much after introducing themselves, but the room didn't feel too tense after ice was broken.

Not until the third merc came in.

He walked in quietly; he had to be at least 6'7", or maybe more, with the biggest build Engineer had ever seen. He had a brow that made his eyes look angry, and when he spoke, he talked in a grizzly Russian accent.

"Hello." the man said, "I am Heavy Weapons Guy."

Engineer was a little dry in the throat, but Sniper said, "G'day." Heavy was about to close the door, but then a shrill Scottish voice yelped, "WHOA! WAIT UP, BOYO!"

Heavy's brow raised and he opened the door again. A dark-skinned man with a goatee and an eyepatch poked his head in. "Are ye laddies mercenaries?" he asked. Engineer replied, "Yes, sir. This is the RED Team."

"Aye!" the man smiled brightly and came in, allowing Heavy to close the door. "What profession do you take up?" Engineer asked the Scotsman, and he replied, "I work the bombs and explosives and sich. It's called a Demolition Man, but that's too long of a name. Just call me the Demoman." he added, "But, you can call me Tavish, if ye care to."

Demoman was one of the most vocal people Engineer had ever met. He began talking to the men from minute one, asking about "where do ye come from" and "any work before this?" Even Heavy seemed to be a bit more looser around the guy, but the tea party was short lived.

"So, Sniper." Demoman looked up from his knees, "Why'd you want to become a mercenary?" Sniper was cleaning his glasses with his shirt, hesitant to say something for a moment, but when he opened his mouth, a wild war-cry rang aloud from outside.  
Sniper closed his mouth, his eyes wide, and everyone turned towards the front of the room. There was a split second of silence before a sudden slam rang out.

The door was kicked in, causing everyone to jump a little. Engineer even let out a short little yell, but quickly covered his mouth. The sand had been significantly kicked up, and in the light of the setting sun and huge dust clouds stood a mighty silohuette.  
Silence settled on everyone. No man said anything until the figure's voice rolled like brutal thunder, "ATTENNNNN-TION!" He stood straight as a stick, and with a hand to his head he saluted them. "Jane Doe, Soldier for the Reliable Excavation Demolition Team!"

"Soldier," Demoman repeated, "bit ov a broad profession, eh?" Soldier leaned in on his co-worker's face, his helmet lunging a little before straightening out on his head. "Yessir. It is broad, but great men take broad jobs." With that said, he took a spot between Demoman and Heavy, his shoulders still pushed back and bold as a boulder.  
The door was nudged open again, much more of a gentle entrance than Soldier's, and a gasmasked face slipped in. There was no talking, as the figure slowly made its way in and gingerly closed the door behind it.

The person was wearing gloves and boots, not a hide or hair showing, and a fuzzy cat sweater that was baggy. No one knew what sort of body, what sort of hair color, or what voice the character owned - it was practically a mystery. The person took a spot right next to Engineer, not looking at him, and immediately pulled a lighter out from its back pocket.

"The Pyrotechnic." Demoman whispered to Soldier.  
"Don't you mean Pyro_maniac_?" he whispered back.

Once again, a new mercenary came through the door. It was a man with small, circular spectacles, and a cowlick that moved with every motion he made. He wore a tie, and loafer shoes without socks. In his left hand was a large birdcage; there had to be about ten doves in that thing.

The man greeted them all nicely. "Guten Tag, " he awkwardly walked down and took the last spot in the very corner of the room. Engineer said, "Hello, sir." Pyro looked up from his lighter's flame as he spoke, "What's job do you take up on the team?"

"I am zhe Medic." Medic adjusted his glasses a little, "Und you?" Engineer replied, "Engineer." the doctor nodded, and it was once again quiet. The clock on the wall read 5:45 when the last of the men arrived.  
The door was urgently swung open, and it banged the wall behind it. Everyone jumped as what appeared to be a young boy ran in. "Shit," he spat, "I'm late!"

"Oh, only by fifteen wee minutes." Demoman commented. Sniper snorted, "Wait...are you a mercenary?" The boy stood straight, trying to look bigger than he was. "Well, duh. Yeah, imma merc. Why else would I be here?" he walked in, dragging his duffel bag. "I'm the Scout, if ya need to be nosy 'bout it."

Everyone was observing each other in silence. Eight men, eight filled chairs, and one empty one between Scout and Pyro.  
Where was the last merc?


	3. Chapter 3 - Captain's Orders

"Do you think he got lost?" asked Soldier, staring at the empty chair.

Medic shook his head. "He couldn't of. Zhere's only one road leading out here. You'd have to be blind or terribly schtupid to get lost."

Scout sat forward a little. "Well, actually gettin' lost out here is easy. You could just drive offa the road an' go on into the desert for ages."

Medic stared at the young man, before sitting back and concluding, "He's probrably lost." The door was pushed open again, and in came a young woman with a clipboard. She had cats-eye glasses that shone in the light, and sported a purple dress.  
"Hello, mercs." she greeted, "I'm Miss Pauling, and I'll be working with you all."

Scout stared, dumfounded. "A-are you a mercenary too?" he asked. She looked up from her board with a suprised face. "...No, I'm not. I'm what you'd call a secretary." Scout tried to give a cheeky smirk before pushing his baseball cap over his eyes in a "cool" fashion, but she ignored him.

"Okay," she looked to the others and said, "I'm going to do a roll call. If I call you, just say 'here' or whatever you feel like saying." She knocked her head down and her glasses fell so her cool blue eyes caught everyone as she added, "As long as the word is highschool-level appropriate."

The men nodded, and she then looked down and began calling names off of the list.  
"The Engineer."  
"Here!"  
"The Demoman."  
"Aye!"  
"The Pyro."  
"_Hrrr_."  
"The Heavy."  
"...Here."  
"The Spy."  
"Present."

The mercs gasped as a cloud of smoke suddenly expanded from the corner of the room. Miss Pauling raised her eyebrows as through the pale air stood a new figure no one recognized. The man was wearing a maroon trenchcoat, and a balaclava over his face so only his eyes and mouth were visible. He had just appeared out of nowhere, but what could you expect? He's a spy, after all.

"Well." Engineer turned to Medic, "Looks like he ain't stupid."

Spy glanced at the Texan and growled, "I beg your pardon?"

Miss Pauling cleared her throat loudly, and they shut up.

She then continued roll call, and everyone was accounted for. The woman then smiled at the men and explained their plans for the night.

"First, you all can take your stuff and get situated at the small quarters down the road. It's far enough from the field, and it will go untouched as you battle it out in Dustbowl. You have the night to break the ice with one another, and tomorrow is when the real fun begins."

She then turned and warned them as she walked out.

"Get your rest, mercs. This next week's gonna be a _long_ one."


End file.
